


Hopeless & Hounded

by hrhowling



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baby Blasters, Angry Flaming Skeleton, Angst, Blaster!Gaster, Blaster!Papyrus, Blaster!Sans, Body Horror, Branding, Broken Bones, Child Experimentation, Corbel is a war veteran, Family, Fluff, GB!Gaster, GB!Papyrus, GB!Sans, Gen, Medical Torture, PTSD, Papyrus is 2, Post Human/Monster War, Pre-Game Events, Probably going to be a lot of OCs in this story, Recovery, Sad Children, Sans is 7, Tears, Therapy Animal, Wingdings is about 14, Wingdings is basically S & P's older brother, Wingdings stutters when he speaks English, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhowling/pseuds/hrhowling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It sucked to be a sleepless war veteran who couldn't let go of the past. So when Corbel Bold Scintillate made the choice to take in three skeleton children, he was happy to feel like he was finally moving on; able to let go of the past.</p><p>It wasn't long before he had to call on the past in order to help these traumatised shapeshifters, and himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Snow and Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Undertale fanfiction that I have actually posted. I actually have more, but I'm not up to putting them up yet.
> 
> Feel free to check out my tumblr and fanfiction.net account! The username is hrhowling for both of them!

_It was so... so cold... It seeped into him, melted into the cracks and between joints, and it was so... so uncomfortable, it... it hurt... Old wounds and breakages had been agitated in his fight to get not only himself, but_ them _out, too. He'd been_ _injured badly in his fight to escape. It was dragging him down; impeding his progress..._  

_He just had to make sure_ they _were okay. Once that was done, it didn't matter_ _any more_ _. He could be as slow as he liked._  

_He could even just... stop... entirely..._  

**_"H-h-hey... Wait..!"_**  

_...Thank you... Thank you for getting me to stop... I don't think I can do it myself_ _at the moment..._  

_We_ _ary and weighed down by fatigue, illness and injury, he sluggishly turned back to look at them. They'd fallen behind. He had to slow down, otherwise he could lose them_ _too._  

**_"I-I'm c-c_** ** _old..."_** _the eldest_ _\- Blue Eyes -_ _whimpered, his voice nearly lost in the wind. Strapped to his back with a tatty length_ _of fabric was the younger, who was making sounds of distress._ **_"When can we stop? Y-you've been d-dragging us around f-f-for ages, just where are we going?!"_**  

~~**_"Someplace safe,"_ ** ~~ _he explained, but the older didn't seem at all satisfied with that response._ ~~**_"Come on, we need to-."_**  ~~

**_"No!"_** _the_ _Blue Eyes_ _barked, his eyes flaring_ _that trademark_ _colour_ _as anger took over the weariness he was no doubt feeling._ ** _"Th-this isn't safe! It's cold, and it's hurting me! It's hurting Papyrus!"_**  

_That stopped him. On closer inspection, both children were in fact experiencing the negative effects of such frigid temperatures. It wasn't healthy, especially in the states they were all in already._  

~~**_"Okay,"_ ** ~~ _he sighed, unable to fight it off any longer. They all needed rest._ ~~**_"We... we need to find shelter. Come on. I promise we'll be able to stop soon."_**  ~~

_The elder_ _brother_ _nodded, relief finding his tired, haggard features. No child should have that sort of look..._  

**_"Okay."_**  

_It took a while, but he managed to find shelter from the shrieking blizzard that had descended upon_ _them_ _._ _A small wooden structure with a sloped roof and a large opening in the front, but it looked safe enough. He could smell the fairly recent scent of another monster, but the monster in question didn't appear to be around at the moment._  

~~**_"In here,"_ ** ~~ _he told Blue Eyes, who wasted no time in entering the little building. He himself managed to stumble in, and promptly collapsed onto the cold, hard-pressed dirt ground next to the two others._ ~~**_"I... I'm so tired..."_**  ~~

_Darkness was creeping into the corners of his vision._  

**_"You're sure we're safe here?"_** _Blue Eyes asked, his voice... echoing strangely._  

~~**_"Yes... Yes, safe... We'll have to leave eventually,_** ** _though..._** ** _'nother monster comes here... I'll... I'll keep an eye out... you two can sleep..."_**  ~~

**_"What about you?"_**  

~~**_"I'll... be... hhnnn... So tired... You're safe... All that... matters..."_**  ~~

**_"Hey... H-hey! G-get up! Hey!"_**  

_The darkness had consumed him. All he knew now was black..._  

_And he didn't have the streng_ _th to fight his way out again... Not this time..._  


	2. Chapter 1 - Grim Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sentry and his son find something they didn't expect.
> 
> And it's not a human...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue got a little ‘eh’ towards the end, but I wanted to just get on with it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sergeant Fetch Russel was getting on in years; that he wasn't afraid to admit; but it didn't stop him from carrying out his duty as leader of the Royal Guard's Canine Unit which stood guard over Snowdin. His father always told him that "If your legs can still hold your weight; keep walking," and he chose to live by those words. His legs could still hold his weight, so he kept walking. Yes, he had a limp, and his left eye was all but useless, but he could still hear and smell any humans that happened to pass by. This fact gave him the motivation to carry on the cold walk to his sentry station with-. 

**"** **DAD** **!!** Something moved!!" 

...with his teenage, motion-sighted son in tow. 

**"Doggo, it was a squirrel,"** he barked over his shoulder. Just behind him was a fifteen-year-old dog who looked like he had predominantly Husky lineage. Icy blue eyes darted every which way, and in his white jaws was a bone-shaped chew toy that he kept gnawing on. His pointed, slightly skewed black ears swiveled in different direction in an effort to discern every sound possible. 

"Oh... Where's the checkpoint?" 

"Not far from here. Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can break out the steak treats." 

**"Steak** **flavour** **dog treats!"**  

Chuckling under his breath, Fetch rolled his fading grey eyes in amusement at his son's antics. The pup was visiting from New Home for the summer, under his mother's insistence that it would do him some good to learn the rules of a military dog pack. So far, the youngster was doing well. 

They got to Fetch's station without a problem, but the moment Fetch approached, he froze. 

Something was in his sentry station; he could smell and hear it. 

Whatever it was, it didn't seem natural. It reeked of chemicals and set him on edge, causing his tan hackles to raise. 

"Dad? Where'd you go?" Doggo whined, waving his hands about in front of him in an attempt to find the older dog. 

"Something's there," Fetch growled, raising a hand for Doggo to see. "Stay where you are." 

Not wanting to disobey his father, Doggo remained where he was and anxiously watched (or as much as he could, considering his motion-sightedness) as his father stalked towards the small, hut-like structure. Soft sobs could be heard from behind the counter, coupled with weak growls and faint breathing that he could barely pick up. 

"Please, p-please move... you... you haven't m-moved in ages... Please..? C-come on, Pap and I are fine now... W-we have to keep g-g-going, you... you said so yourself! W-we need to go someplace safe! Come on..." 

Fetch stopped. A child... That was the voice of a child; no mistaking it. What was a child doing in his sentry station just after a blizzard? 

"Hello?" Fetch called out, noting the small gasp of horror and the sudden halt of the child's words. Carefully, agonisingly slowly, he crept forward. Once at the counter with the little bell placed upon it, he peeked over the edge and into the station. 

His stomach dropped at what he saw. 

Three skeletons were hiding in the station; two of them more humanoid than the... the beast lying prone on the cold dirt floor next to them. The human-looking ones - the kind that he was used to - couldn't be any older than two and seven years old. The youngest was wrapped up in a multitude of ragged clothes, the most notable one being a red blanket, whilst the older wore a hole-ridden blue jacket with a fur-lined hood. He was shaking and knelt next to the other monster; a dog-like creature bearing a skull crowned with sharp spines. It was barely moving. 

**"Oh** **my dog..."** Fetch breathed, horror dawning on his ragged features. His hackles dropped as the impending fear left him. "What on Earth..?" 

"Go away!" the older skeleton shrieked, picking up the smaller one and backing into a corner. "D-don't... don't hurt us!" 

Fetch didn't move. He was frozen in place by utter disbelief at the children's' - and the beast's - condition. Filthy and covered in scrapes, they all looked half-starved and on their way to falling down. 

"What happened to you?" he whispered, his eyes wide. 

"Leave us alone..." the older skeleton boy whimpered softly, pearly blue tears pooling around his eyes. 

"Kid, it's okay," Fetch said, his voice low in an effort not to sound threatening. "What happened to you?" 

"I said go away!" the kid shouted, eyes glowing an angry blue and-. 

HOLY CRAP!! 

The boy was... shifting. His jaw jutted forward, teeth sharpening into lethal fangs, and his phalanges sharpened into claws. Spines pushed through the surface of his skull, giving him a similar appearance to the dog-like creature beside him. 

"I want to help, kid!" Fetch flustered, at a loss at what to do. "Just calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, but you gotta trust me. What happened?" 

The transformation stopped, and the child was clinging to the smaller one (likely his sibling) like a lifeline. Shaky sobs escaped him, and Fetch felt heartbroken at the sight. It was just like when he'd been waiting outside the school in New Home for his son, only to find the kid crying on the doorstep because he'd been bullied. 

"It's okay," he continued. "How long have you been here?" 

"S-since the storm," the child whimpered as his distended features retracted into themselves and realigned into something more natural. "He... h-he won't move..." 

"Who, him?" Fetch queried, pointing to the dog-like creature. The boy nodded. "I... okay, kid, I want you to listen closely. Can you do that for me?" 

Sniffling, the blue-eyed skeleton looked up at him and nodded. 

"Good. My son's going to wait here with you whilst I get someone to help move your friend to someplace warm. Then we're going to help you all get better. You trust me, right?" 

Another timid nod. The boy didn't look all to trusting of him, but there was a horrible resignedness about him that made Fetch feel physically ill. 

"That's good. What's your name, kid?" 

"S-Sans..." 

"Heh. I knew a Sans once. He was a pretty Sans-sational guy." 

Fetch wasn't one for making puns in dire situations, but it seemed to work in this case. The child let out a small giggle, and he knew he was getting somewhere. 

He just hoped he wasn't too late to help the other one... 


	3. Chapter 2 - Fire and Bone Makes a Short Temper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another skeleton is added into the mix. He's not happy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again; short and a little lousy, but I want to get this little bit over with. Also, I’m on a roll with these chapters this week!

Corbel Bold Scintillate could do little more than stare at the... the thing... hanging limply from Greater Dog's arms. Fetch was looking up at him with a pitiful 'Puppy Eyes' expression. He'd just finished his panicked story about two skeleton children and a skeletal dragon/dog hybrid that all looked half-starved and about ready to fall down at the slightest push. As he went on, Corbel had felt his rage burning hotter and hotter until he knew for certain that he would likely be seen from the entrance to Waterfall and mistaken for a signal fire. 

"Corbs, please-," the dog begged. 

"Bring them in," Corbel snapped, stepping out of the doorway to allow the large armoured husky entry. "Fetch, get some warm water, and a decent meal for those kids. Whoever fucking left them out in that storm is going to burn, mark my words." 

There was no arguing with the blazing skeleton when his flames turned a smouldering blackish-orange, foreboding an explosive temper that was not to be tempted. Doggo ushered the boy in the jacket (still carrying the toddler in his arms) inside, and lead them to one of the pale green couches whilst Greater Dog followed Fetch to another couch and laid the beast onto it as gently as was possible. He'd started whining and twitching with unrest along the way to Snowdin. 

"Wh-who's that?" Sans asked timidly as Doggo fluffed up the cushions for him to lie back on. With wary eyes, he looked at the skeleton and took in his appearance. A charcoal-black skull littered with scratch marks and spiderweb cracks crackled with orange flames, and his clothing consisted of a dark brown leather vest over a white shirt, and black suit trousers. A cadmium bow tie was tied in place underneath this chin, and matched the small orange flames that danced in his eyes. 

"His name's Corbel," Fetch replied, coming forth with some sandwiches clutched in his paws. "He'll make sure your friend is okay. And he'll look after you until we find out where you live." 

At this, Sans started shaking, and Fetch immediately regretted his words. The kid looked terrified. 

"D-Don't send us back there," Sans begged. "Th-they'll h-hurt Pap..." 

Oh jeez... Fetch thought, his mind racing. Tact wasn't really his thing anymore, was it? Twice, he'd nearly sent the kid into a panic attack. 

"Okay," he said quickly when he noticed that Sans looked about ready to bolt. "Okay, we won't send you back... wherever 'there' is. But we need to find your parents. They must be worried sick about you." 

"We don't have those," was the barely audible reply, and again, Fetch felt sick. "Experiments don't have parents..." 

He didn't hear that last part. If he had, then he'd likely screamed in fury and gone out to hit something. Probably a tree. 

"Where's that water?" Corbel demanded, walking back in with a first aid kit in hand. "One of you dogs had better have got some." 

The moment he said this, Greater Dog quickly padded over with a large tub of warm water in his paws and some cleaning cloths. 

"Good," Corbel growled, taking the water and setting it down on the floor next to the beast. Then he took the towels as well and began to violently soak them as if he were trying to drown someone. Water splashed onto the carpet, hissed angrily and evaporated into steam in the barely contained heat of his fire, but no one commented on it. Sans was to scared, Greater Dog didn't know all that much English, Doggo hadn't much of an idea what was happening, and Fetch knew better. Corbel had a temper like a burning pine cone; fierce and frightening when the flames first kick up, but quick to die out and reduce itself to smouldering charcoal. So as he spent longer than necessary to steep the towels whilst muttering curses under his breath, Fetch took the time to encourage Sans to eat something. 

"You like smoked ham, kid?" he asked, sitting down next to the boy, who flinched away from him the moment he alighted his backside onto the couch. "Easy, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to. Here, you look hungry." 

With slow, deliberate movements (it was difficult to restrain himself to such a demeanour after having lived with his son for two weeks), Fetch handed out the sandwiches; smoked ham and salad with a little mayonnaise. Sans just looked at the offered food with suspicion, not making the slightest motion to take it. 

"Don't worry, it's yours. Unless you're not too keen on ham, then I can just get something else. My ex-wife likes fish, so I'm used to folks with weird tastes." 

The boy just looked at him with bewilderment, and again, Fetch felt his chest tighten and his stomach twist. "That's for us?"

Across the room, Corbel's muttering took on a darker, more murderous tone, but Fetch ignored it. "It's all yours, kid," he encouraged a smile reaching his features. "Anything you want; if we've got it, then you can have it. So long as it's within reason, of course; we don't want you to get hurt." 

Sans just nodded and cautiously took the sandwiches from Fetch's outstretched paw. He looked at them strangely, as if he'd never seen food before. With care, he picked it apart and pulled out the ham and held it in front of his sibling. 

"Hey, Pap," he cooed. "Look what I've got." 

"FOO!" the little skeleton shouted, grabbing the ham and messily shoving it into their mouth. Fetch couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, which was very much like his son's earlier years. 

"What's their name?" he asked, still trying to gain some friendliness from the skeletons. 

"His name's Papyrus," Sans replied, clearly more at ease with the canine, and a relaxed smile on his face. Taking a leaf from his brother's book, he started eating the mayonnaise-slathered bread, but at a slower pace. 

"Hmm... Never heard that one before." For a fleeting moment, Fetch's eyes darted in the direction of the bone creature. Corbel had calmed down enough to start cleaning off it's bones without causing harm, and it was still twitching fitfully, as if caught in some sort of nightmare. "What about them? What's their name?" 

At this, Sans's smile dropped, and is brow creased in confusion. 

"I... I don't know... I didn't know he even existed until he got us out of... there..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fetch and Corbel both belong to me.


	4. Chapter 3 - Red Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traumatised screams are the first sign that something is much, much worse than Corbel had expected...

Fetch had to leave eventually; his watch station wasn't going to keep a lookout for humans on its own. Taking Doggo and Greater Dog with him, he left Sans, Papyrus and their mysterious (and still unconscious) companion with Corbel, which neither of the boys seemed happy with. The tall, angry skeleton intimidated them and made them feel uncomfortable. There was also the fact that he was _on fire_ , which took the cake for the older brother. 

"Are you two still hungry?" Corbel asked once he'd closed the front door. He knew that neither of the boys like him, which he put down to the poor first impression he'd made on them. Losing his temper like that had been a bad move, now neither of them could look at him without suddenly shaking. "I've got plenty of food to spare, so don't worry about inconveniencing me." 

"N-no thank you," Sans replied shakily, his eyes on the ground and one hand clasped around his brother's. Again, Corbel felt himself sizzle at the sight of them; frail and greying bones littered with scrapes and covered with filth, just like their bestial companion. Their clothes were muddied messes; ripped, torn and too big for them, and there was none of the childish naivety in their eyes that Corbel was so used to seeing in young ones. They'd suffered, and it was unlikely that they'd ever truly recover from it enough to live proper childhoods. Perhaps the younger would have more of a chance; toddlers didn't often retain enough of those sorts of memories to be too badly affected in later years, but it was still unlikely. 

"Okay then," he conceded, not wanting to push his limits. "Don't be scared to ask me if you want anything, okay? Whatever's happened to you three, it will _never_ happen to you again. I'll make sure of it." 

Sans just nodded silently. 

"I've got some old picture books on the bookshelf," Corbel suggested, a friendly smile on his soot-coloured features. "Would you like to look at those whilst we wait for your friend to wake up?" 

* * *

 _Red..._  

 _That was all there was..._  

_Endless... _R͚̞̫̼͈̦͒͜ë̼́̽̾̾͊̑ͤD̸̛͙̭̿̇̈͂ͫͩ̋ͦ…__

_It hurt him. It terrified him. Clung to his bones and seeped into his joints; burning, tearing,_  

_b̵̞̰̻͙ͮͧ̏͡R͇̘̹͓ͤ͒͘͞ẻ̸̫̝͚̜̳̠͂a̶̶̻̘͚͔̪̽̄̽̂̋ͥ͞K̵͍̗͔̘͓̩̦͕̐̄́̍̃͂̈́̀ͅİ̛̖̝̻̩̞̯̑ͤ̍̍̈́͐͞ň̶̙̤̬̲̙̪̼̫̃̒͗͟g̍̒͗̓͏̢͉̦̺̟̹͡ ̖͚̼̒̾̅̄̉ͥͫh̨̙̯́̒͟Ì̱͉̈́̕m̗̦̣̘̭̲͙͋͐̂ͬ̏̓͘ͅ ̸͎̼̙̲̼̦͕̔̉ͬ̈́͆͆͘D͎̰̲̞̼̹͊̎ͯ̓̕͝ͅō̷̤̻̤̃͂́͞W̧̧̹͒̇ͥ̑̐͛̆N͖̥̯̈́͗̾̃͋͆̇…_

_He had to get out. He had to find them and_  

_Ļ̷͚̊ͤ̂͟ͅE̶͔̗͈̺̪ͦ͒̑̒̒a̢̯̥̼̙ͩ̍̑͆͑̊́͠v̵̦̣̰̝̣̟̙̬ͨ̿̓̀̄ͯ̈̀͜Ę̩̘ͭ͗̏͑ͨ͢͢!_

_Something snapped. Another something cracked. Agony lanced through his eye, and hot liquid spilled onto his face. He didn't care. Nothing was holding him down anymore, so he took the chance and ran. Hic claws scrabbled against metal, and he struggled to find a proper foothold, but once he did, he didn't let anything stop him. Not the pain, not the red, not even the stings of magical attacks cutting into his bones._  

 _He ran. Screams - some being his own - rang through the_ _grey corridors around him as he charged headlong through them without even the slightest clue where he was going. Somehow, he found his way to them._ _Both of them were confused and shaking, startled not only by his sudden, loud appearance and the blaring alarms that wail_ _ed around his head._  

 ** _"Wh-wh-wh_** ** _at's happening?!"_** _the elder; whose eyes were glowing a bright blue; cried, clutching his brother close to him. Blue Eyes and Hopeful._  

 ** _"We need to get out!"_** _he barked, feeling his mouth burn before he blew apart the lock of the cage the two children were trapped in._ ** _"Now!"_**  

 _Blue E_ _yes didn't dare argue, instead quickly picking up his whimpering brother and transforming. Wordlessly, he_ _followed him through the winding passageways that they'd all lived in for who knew how long._  

 _People tried getting in his way, but it didn't last long. He may have been weakened by starvation and abuse, but he wasn't helpless. All it took was a warning shot, and they scarpered before the blasts even hit anything._  

 _He wasn't sure where he was going, but by some stroke of luck, he found a door that smelled different from the others. He could... feel a breeze? Heat?_  

 _This was the way out. It had to be. Blast_ _ing open the door, he was taken aback by the bright orange light that hit his eyelids. It hurt, but not as much as the things that the monsters in white did to him._  

 ** _"I-is that the way out?"_** _Blue Eyes asked, fear clear in his eyes._  

 ** _"Yes, it has to be,"_** _he growled, pushing the young one forward with his tail._ ** _"Come on."_**  

 _Hesitantly, Blue Eyes padded forward;_ _the soft_ 'clat clat clat' _of his claws nearly drowned out by the heavy roar of the outside. Hopeful was strapped to his back,_ _cooing_ _at the sight of the unfamiliar landscape. Red, orange, yellow and black glared in at them, and an uncomfortable heat smothered everything it touched. A welcome change from the cold, unforgiving grey of... this place..._  

 _He took a step t_ _o_ _ward-._  

_P̙̥̟̱͚͕̹̝̮̉͊̍̔̚ȧ̵̝̤̪̻̊ͩͭ̕Ḭ̷̛͍̰̣̅͛̊̐ͨ́̈́̅N̢̘̘̽ͩ͋ͯ͋ͬ̓ P̙̥̟̱͚͕̹̝̮̉͊̍̔̚ȧ̵̝̤̪̻̊ͩͭ̕Ḭ̷̛͍̰̣̅͛̊̐ͨ́̈́̅N̽ͩ͋ͯ P̙̥̟̱͚͕̹̝̮̉͊̍̔̚ȧ̵̝̤̪̻̊ͩͭ̕Ḭ̷̛͍̰̣̅͛̊̐ͨ́̈́̅N̢̘̘̽ͩ͋ͯ͋ͬ̓!_

**_"AAAAAAAAAA!!!"_**  

 _C-c-crA_ _aAC_ _kK_ _!_  

* * *

The sound of a child screaming was an obvious shock to Corbel. High, animalistic and piercing, it startled him enough to make him drop the glass mixing bowl he'd been drying off. With an almighty _'SMASH!!'_ , shards of glass exploded everywhere in a shower of glittering foot-slicers. 

Those shrieks were born through agony and fear, bred by insanity-inducing trauma, and sharpened enough to cut through one's skin, no matter how thick it was. 

And it cut through Corbel's defences quite easily. He felt a shiver run through his spine, made noticeable by the crackles and pops that emanated from his backbone. 

Ignoring the glass that crunched beneath his feet, Corbel ran into the living room, only to gasp at the sight of the dog-like skeleton beast writhing and... _contorting_... on the couch. The structure - although designed to be robust - was creaking and threatening to buckle under the force of what may as well have been death throes. 

"STAHP!" Papyrus shouted over the din, hands over where his ears would've been had he possessed any, whilst Sans was by the couch, shaking his companion in a desperate attempt to wake him up. 

"Come on, wake up!" he pleaded. "It's okay, there's nothing to be scared of! WAKE UP!!" 

"What happened?" Corbel asked, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. But the moment he uttered the words, Sans shrank away, tears beading in his eyes. 

"I'm sorry!" he whimpered. "H-he won't stop!" 

A worried frown crossed Corbel's features. "It's okay," he said, keeping his voice level. "Do you know how to calm him down?" 

"N-no. H-he just keeps screaming until he wakes up, and then... then he tells us we have to keep going..." 

Corbel wanted to ask the boy what he meant by that, but held back and instead walked over to the couch. He had a bone-beast to calm down. 

Suddenly, something happened that made Corbel's skull turn a pasty grey with horror. 

"Sweet mother of Mercy," he breathed. 

The beast was shapeshifting. Bones cracked and shortened, the spikes of his claw-like phalanges were blunted by an unseen force, and his tail was retracting into his coccyx. The long, battered muzzle was shrinking in on itself, and-. Oh, god, his jaws were melting together! 

Corbel could only stand there in horror at the sight as the beast transformed into a screaming skeleton child with a nasty set of cracks on their face; one running from the left eye to the top of their mouth, and the other stretching from above their left eye, all the way to the back of their skull. Still screaming, but now awake, the child's eyes locked with his before they bolted, scrambling off of the couch and hiding in the corner of the living room. 

"Oh, boy," Corbel breathed. "What happened to you kids?" 

The third skeleton child was older than Sans; maybe about twelve or thirteen but considering how malnourished they looked, they could've been older. Shivering and naked, they were a pitiful sight; more so than even Sans. Terror drowned their eyes, and they flinched at the slightest movement. Scrapes, scratches and needle marks littered their ribs and arms, and massive, jagged holes took up the majority of his palms, and it sickened Corbel to think of what could have possibly caused them. 

His face was odd-looking, too. Smoother; a little like Sans's; there was no definition to his features. He... he appeared to have some minimal ghost heritage somewhere along the lines. 

Sans was the first to approach them. It was probably for the best. Corbel didn't know how volatile the older kid was. 

"H-hey..." Sans ventured, catching the strange child's attention. White dots locked with white dots, and surprisingly, they calmed down a little. "Do y-you... do you remember me?" 

A quiet, barely distinguishable mumble escaped the child; an odd, but familiar-sounding language made up mostly of words, but also having a few clicks and whistles thrown in here and there. Despite it ringing a bell in Corbel's mind, he couldn't comprehend a word of it. Sans seemed to understand though. 

"S-somewhere safe," he stuttered. "I... I know you said we couldn't trust anyone, but... but Corbel's not bad. He's like us, sorta." 

A blank, unblinking gaze found its way to Corbel, and the Incendiary/skeleton hybrid locked eyes with the shapeshifter. Once he knew he had the kid's attention, he took a careful step forward, and stopped the moment they flinched. It wouldn't do to set them off again. 

"I'm not going to hurt you or your friends," Corbel said; voice level and eyes never leaving the child. He took another tentative step forward, and yet again they flinched, and he took it as a cue to stop. "I want to help you, but I can't do that if you don't trust me at least a little. Will you let me help you?" 

The skeleton child continued to stare up at him in silence, neither of them speaking or moving in this tense, nerve-wracking staring competition. There was... a cold emptiness in the child's eyes; one that conveyed only pain, suffering and defeat. They'd lost all hope. 

~~"Okay..."~~

It was barely a whisper, and Corbel barely caught it, but he understood the seemingly alien language this time. It was a dead language; one that hadn't been spoken in centuries, and the only records of it that remained were in the archives at the Capital.

Wingdings... The kid spoke in Wingdings... 


	5. Chapter 4 - Reliability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is hard-won. Corbel forgets that, and it doesn't end well...

Corbel couldn't get the kid who spoke in Wingdings to say any more than what he'd already said; not even his name (on that note: did he even have one?). After managing to convince him to put on a hideous sweater he'd pulled out of the darkest recesses of his wardrobe, the boy just curled up on the couch in the fetal position whilst Sans and Papyrus both huddled up next to him. It would've struck the older monster as cute if it weren't for how pitiful the three of them looked. 

The midnight black sweater that the youngster wore was a bit too big and bore one of the most annoying images on the front that he'd ever seen; skeleton with no clothes on, stood under a tree beneath a full moon. Stereotypical garbage that could only come from the surface; manufactured by none other than humans. A friend from Waterfall had given it to him, but not once had he worn it, instead opting to shove it in the corner of his wardrobe to hopefully disappear from existence. 

"I'm making dinner," Corbel eventually said once he'd cleaned up the shattered remains of the bowl he'd dropped and a few other things. "Do you have any preferences?" 

"FOO!" Papyrus yelled, causing both the older skeletons to look at him; Sans with amusement and the silent one with slight surprise, which was a welcome change from the dismal emptiness that had clouded his features for the past half hour. 

 Corbel chuckled, admiring the child's enthusiasm. "How does spaghetti sound?" 

Papyrus continued to babble toddler nonsense - as toddlers do - but Sans and the older child (Corbel really had to figure out his name) just stared at each other in confusion. 

"What's... 'sagetty'?" Sans asked hesitantly, the word sounding foreign to him; almost alien. Corbel had to bite back yet another snarl of rage. 

"Spaghetti," Corbel repeated; articulating each syllable clearly for the children's' benefit. "I think you'll like it." 

Sans didn't say anything, but he did get up off the sofa to follow Corbel and Papyrus into the kitchen. A few minutes later, the third child wandered in after them. He was unsteady on his feet and looked borderline exhausted; likely feverish as well. Corbel made a note to check his temperature after dinner, and see if he'd take some cough medicine. 

The two younger children watched with wide-eyed curiosity as he brought out a pan, some raw spaghetti, minced beef and pasta sauce. The other just stood in the corner with his eyes lowered to the ground. 

Once Corbel was done, he dished the pasta out into four bowls and carefully balanced the bowls on his arms; two to each limb, and precariously made his way back into the living room. He made a show of pretending to almost drop the food and suddenly save it out of the blue; grinning at the squeals of applause and gasps of amazement he managed to draw from Papyrus and Sans respectively. The other boy didn't take long to follow behind, but instead of being amused by Corbel's tricks, his eyes only betrayed panic. Corbel chose to stop when he noticed, and mentally berated himself for his error. These kids had probably been half-starved, of course at least one of them would get antsy about food. 

In the living room, Corbel put the food on the coffee table and mashed up what was in Papyrus's bowl to make it easier for him to eat. Sans sat on the couch, but the other child just stood behind him; silent as ever. It was getting unnerving... 

"Aren't you hungry?" Corbel enquired, trying to convey that he wasn't going to cause them any harm or deprive them of food. "It's okay; you can eat." 

"Papyrus always eats first," Sans said, whilst his companion just looked away from the food. Nothing more was said, but the message was unmistakable: Papyrus got all the food he needed, and the other two boys were willing to starve in order to give it to him. 

Corbel was silent for a moment as he held out a spoonful of mashed up spaghetti, sauce and meatballs out for Papyrus to chow down on. The toddler was sat on the floor, since it was a safer option until he got a high chair. 

"You don't have to worry about getting enough food anymore," he eventually said. "Any of you. For as long as you're here, there will be food available, and you don't even have to ask for it. It's the least you deserve after what you must have been through." 

Both boys gazed at him in utter bewilderment, as if they couldn't believe what they'd just heard. Completely oblivious to the sudden tension, Papyrus had foregone the offered spoonful of mushy goo in Corbel's hand and proceeded to grab handfuls of what was in the bowl before him and smear it all over his face. Some of it even got into his mouth. 

 ~~"You're lying,"~~ the formerly silent one (S _crew it, I'm just going to call him Wing_ _d_ _ings_ , Corbel growled in his head) said quietly. His eyes had gone empty, fading into jet black pits that only radiated terror, anger and disgust. ~~"You're lying; stop it."~~

Corbel froze up as soon as the accusation registered clearly in his mind. _Shit..._  

"Kid, I promise you, I would never-," Corbel began, but was cut off immediately. 

 ~~ **"Sh** ut **u** p **!** "~~ Wingdings snapped, his voice warping in and out of a sequence of angry, panicked snarls  and his 'namesake' language. ~~"Sto **p** lyi **ng!"**~~

His body was contorting again; jaw pushing forward and his skull flattening out; spines piercing the unhealthy grey surface whilst his feet lengthened into something more dog-like. As he hunched over to accommodate a new center of gravity brought on by the beginnings of a tail and hind legs that were more suited to four-legged travel, jagged spikes began to pierce through the back of the ugly sweater (no loss there, to be honest). 

"I'm not lying," Corbel said, his voice calm and level in an attempt to dulcify the boy. If Rex were here, this would be a lot easier, but she wasn't, and there wasn't much he could do about that, was there? Still, he had to try. 

 ~~"L **yin** g,"~~ Wingdings whimpered as he backed up into the corner of the living room. ~~**"L-l** ying, ly **in** g, **lyi** ng!"~~

"I'm not lying," Corbel repeated, slowly stepping forward until he was only two feet away from the boy. He was shaking, and almost on the brink of tears; pearly lilac beads forming in the corners of his sunken eye sockets. It hurt to look, but Corbel hadn't been a high-ranking member of the Royal Guard for a century by buckling under pressure. "I promise that I'll look after Sans, Papyrus, _and_ you. You'll never have to worry about food, shelter, or anything else like that; ever. And you know why?" 

The tears were freely falling now, and it tugged at Corbel's soul painfully. Wingdings's face had fully transformed, as had his claws and feet. He looked so small... 

"Because I'll protect you and make sure it stays that way," Corbel continued. "I promise you, and believe me when I say that I don't break promises. Please, just... trust me." 

Wingdings didn't say anything for a while; instead staring at Corbel with an unreadable but otherwise hostile expression. Still shaking, he kept running his fingers along the outlines of those ghastly holes in his hands and had his tail wrapped around his legs. 

 ~~"Honest?"~~ he eventually whispered, his voice hoarse and trembling. 

 ~~"Honest,"~~ Corbel echoed, using what little Wing-Dings he could speak in an attempt to appease the  child. ~~"You're safe."~~  

The room fell silent again, even Papyrus had caught onto the fact that something was wrong, and crawled next to Sans to see what was going on. 

Suddenly, Wingdings broke into a fit of sobs and lunged towards Corbel. The flaming skeleton tensed, but when the boy crashed into him and engulfed him in a tear-soaked hug, he allowed himself to relax and return the embrace. Weeping pitifully, Wingdings buried his face into Corbel's collarbone as his muzzle shrank back to a normal shape. The crack and snap of bones made the older monster feel a little ill, but he didn't let go of the child; instead gently rubbing his back through the shredded remains of the sweater. 

"It's okay," he whispered, carefully rocking back and forth in an effort to calm Wingdings's nerves. ~~"It's okay..."~~  


	6. Chapter 5 - Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patience is required for everything in life. More so for deeply instilled fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a filler chapter than anything, but I was happy with it, so here you go. Not much else to say here besides feedback is appreciated greatly.

Wingdings was slow to recover from the sudden panic attack that had come over him, but eventually Corbel managed to calm him down enough to get him to replace the shredded sweater (Corbel silently rejoiced at this fact. Honestly, what had he been thinking when he'd grabbed it?) with some actual clothes. The black slacks and forest green turtleneck he'd picked out were a little big for the youngster, but he seemed comfortable enough. In fact, he seemed so comfortable that he'd buried the lower portion of his face beneath the collar. 

"Better?" Corbel asked once he'd finished helping Wingdings get dressed. The young skeleton nodded silently, and Corbel gave him an encouraging smile before guiding him back downstairs to finish eating. Sans and Papyrus had already scoffed down their meals and were now lying on one of the couches, sauce covering their faces (and in Papyrus's case; his front) along with wonderfully content expressions. Corbel felt a little better for that; knowing he was able to bring such simple happiness to at least two of these children. 

The other, though... 

"Are you hungry, kid?" Corbel enquired, turning back to Wingdings, who stood just a little bit behind him with half his face still hidden behind the turtleneck. "I can reheat the spaghetti for you if you want." 

Then again, the kid had been starved for who knew how long. Maybe it would be best if he had something else until he got used to solid foods again. 

 ~~"I'm hungry, but I feel sick too,"~~ Wingdings murmured, his voice muffled by his sweater. ~~"Been like that for a while..."~~  

A frown met Corbel's features as he assessed the boy's words. Wingdings was either sick or starved to the point where he wouldn't be able to eat solid foods. 

"I'll get you some medicine, then if you're up to it, you can eat something," he said. 

Immediately, he regretted his choice in words, because Wingdings started shaking. 

* * *

~~"I-I don't..."~~ he stuttered, torn between running and going to Corbel for protection. The monster had proved to be friendly and a provider of sanctuary, but the mention of medicine set off the blaring alarms in his mind. 

"It's okay," Corbel said quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "It'll help you get better; trust me." 

Trust. He hadn't trusted people before; there'd never been a reason to. It was... new, and... nice, he supposed. 

With some trepidation, he followed Corbel into the clean, spacious room full of cabinets where the flaming monster had made the food earlier. The place unnerved him a little; it reminded him of... of that place... with the counters and white floor, but the scents were warm and inviting; not like the harsh, sterile reek of chemicals that he was used to. Whilst Corbel searched through a cupboard for something, he simply stood in the middle of the room, tapping his toes against the cool tile floors. The soft _'clack_ _clack clacks'_ of his phalanges helped calm his scatty, overexcitable nerves fairly quickly, but he got the feeling that he'd quickly get berated for it. He always did. 

"Here," Corbel announced, turning around to show him the small, dark brown bottle in his hand. In his other hand, there was a small silver instrument with a wide, dish-shaped end. He'd seen them before whilst rooting through peoples' leftover food, but they were usually dented, bent or broken beyond use, and he hadn't really had the time to figure out what they did. "This is the medicine." 

That was medicine? Medicine came in bottles as well? The kind he was familiar with (and feared greatly) usually came in the form of pills or... or needles. 

The places where they injected him still hurt... 

"Are you alright?" Corbel enquired, his voice surprisingly gentle yet somehow able to snap him out of his daze. 

 ~~"I'm okay..."~~ he murmured, rubbing his arms and keeping a wary eye on the bottle. ~~"How do I... t-take..?"~~  

"The medicine? You just swallow it," Corbel explained, pouring a dark green, sweet-smelling liquid into the dish end of the instrument. It... didn't look like medicine to him... 

 ~~"H-how... how do I know that... th-that it's s-safe?"~~ he questioned skeptically, eyeing the 'medicine' with unmasked suspicion. It was a brash move in his books. Questions usually lead to pain and yelling for him to shut up and do as he was told. 

"Do you want me to take some first?" Corbel asked calmly. "To prove that it's safe for you?" 

A timid nod was the only answer. With a small grunt of affirmation, Corbel raised the medicine to his mouth, and swallowed. Neon green fire flickered across his form for a split second, but other than that, nothing happened. 

"See?" Corbel said, a gentle smile on his face. "It's harmless. You might feel a bit drowsy after taking it, but that means the magic is working to make you feel better. Do you want to take it now?" 

He nodded again, and Corbel poured some more medicine into the dish-like instrument before holding it out to him. He didn't force it down his throat or shout at him, but he still felt hesitant. 

"Take your time," Corbel said. 

So he did. After a short while, he opened his mouth and allowed the dish to be placed in his mouth. The metallic taste that followed made him gag, but he managed to swallow the medicine. It tasted better than he'd expected; a sticky sweetness that reminded him of a soft type of bread that he'd found in someone's rubbish a while ago. 

 ~~"Tastes good,"~~ he said quietly, making Corbel's smile widen a little more. It made him smile too, even though the action hurt a little. 

"That's good to know. I'll make some broth for you to eat; it'll help you along with the medicine." 

 ~~"Th-thank you."~~  

"No problem, kid. Do you have a name? You never told me earlier..." 

The smile fell away from his face, and he unconsciously rubbed his hand against the... the mark on his arm... 

 ~~"No name,"~~ he murmured. 

"I see," Corbel said quietly, his voice level. The flames on his skull sputtered for some reason. "How about I call you Wingdings, huh?" 

Wingdings... Yes, he liked it. It felt... comfortable, familiar. 

 ~~"Wingdings... Thank you."~~  


	7. Chapter 6 - Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids aren't the only ones who fear that which goes 'bump' in the night...

Windings fell asleep soon after taking the medicine. Curled up in a nest of blankets on the couch, he looked something close to peaceful save for the odd twitch and whine. Corbel had to reluctantly rouse him from his slumber in order for him to eat a mug of vegetable broth that the flaming skeleton had just cooked up, but not once did the child complain. He just ate what he could (which was a lot by Corbel's standards) and picked at the holes in his hands before drifting off again. Upon checking the boy's temperature, Corbel realised that he was indeed feverish. That wasn't good, and he was so, _so_ thankful that Doctor Sphyrae was going to be coming round overmorrow. Maybe he'd be able to examine the children and give a proper diagnosis. 

They needed it... 

"Um... Mister?" 

Corbel was distracted from his musings by Sans, who'd begun tugging at his trouser leg and looking up at him timidly. 

"Yes, Sans?" Corbel enquired, kneeling down to the boy's level so as not to seem too imposing. While he didn't consider himself to be massively tall, he was certainly at the height where a youngster such as Sans would likely feel frightened by him. 

"Where... where can we sleep?" Sans asked shyly. "I'm tired, and so is Pap." 

Corbel took a moment to think about it. The spare room was a little messy, but the bed was comfortable enough, so they could sleep there. He just needed to get some clean bed sheets. 

But first, the two boys needed a bath; they were both covered in pasta sauce. 

"You can sleep in the guest bedroom if you want," Corbel offered as kindly as possible. "But first, I think it's best if you two had a bath to clean off that pasta sauce. Otherwise it will start smelling bad, which won't be good for anyone." 

Sans quickly nodded in confirmation. "Okay." 

* * *

The small skeletons were all too happy to take a bath, it seemed. Papyrus splashed in the water as if it were the most exciting thing in the world, and Sans was quick to join in; a wide grin on his face. Corbel was content to let them play for a while before picking up the soap and a sponge and gently scrubbing both boys clean. When the water made contact with his lower arms, his flames retreated into the bone, making them glow a dull orange. Eventually, they'd begin to feel numb, like frostbite; which Corbel had discovered early on in life to be a fearfully unpleasant experience. He'd just have to be quick but thorough. 

Then... he saw the marks. 

Barcodes had been deeply etched into the boys' humerus bones, and filled in with black ink to make the lines stand out against the sickly bone. Beneath the barcodes were letters; on Papyrus and Sans respectively: 

  * **_OS - GB_** **_-_** ** _#_** ** _00_** ** _2 - P_**  
  * **_OS - GB_** **_-_** ** _#_** ** _00_** ** _1 - S_**  



"Mister Corbel, sir?" Sans ventured quietly. Only then did Corbel notice that he'd frozen in place, his blazing gaze locked onto the marks. "I... I, um... I'm sorry..." 

Corbel mentally slapped himself. _Well done,_ _Corbs_ _. You're really making these kids feel safe, aren't you?_ _Note the sarcasm..._  

"It's not your fault, kid," Corbel reassured him. "I'm not upset with you; don't worry." 

 _I'm upset with the people who did this to you,_ he added silently. _In fact; I'm fucking pissed!_  

Sans just mumbled incoherently, and averted his eyes to the pastel blue tile wall. Corbel continued to clean him up with silence; and for a good while, the only sounds in the room were Papyrus's babbling and the sound of water being splashed about. 

Corbel felt numb, and it wasn't just because of the water soaking his arms. These boys; these _children_ ; had been branded like _cattle_ , and he had a horrible, sinking feeling that Wingdings had similar marks to go with everything else that had been inflicted upon him. Corbel was no idiot; he knew the marks of needles and torture when he saw them. It was obvious now that these three boys had a stronger link than that which met the eye, and he wouldn't be surprised if the smaller skeletons could shapeshift as well. 

 _Someone_ _is definitely going to burn..._  

* * *

Neither of them said it, but Sans knew that Corbel wasn't happy about the barcodes. At first, he was frightened; fearing that the fiery monster would either throw them out or take them back... There... 

But he didn't. In fact, he was kinder than ever, if that were even possible. After making sure Sans and Papyrus were both clean, he got them some new clothes that smelled a little dusty and neglected, but were otherwise fairly comfortable and fit better than most of the stuff they'd thrown on whilst out on the run. 

Then he took them to a nice, pale yellow room with a big bed that was bare, but Corbel soon put a lot of blankets and sheets on it. There was also a big, swirly brown cabinet in one corner of the room and a desk of a similar appearance. It felt... safe... 

"If you need anything, I'll be in the room just opposite this one, okay?" Corbel told him, a warm (well, um... warm _er_ ) smile on his face. "Would you like me to read you a story? It's been a while since I last told a story to someone out loud, but I think I'm still pretty decent." 

Shyly, Sans nodded, and Corbel made sure he and Papyrus were both comfortable before getting a book and happily reading it out loud. Both of the skeleton children enjoyed it, especially the different voices that he made up for each character. Some were funny, some were all-out strange, but only one was too familiar to be comfortable. Thankfully, that last one only ever had one line throughout the entire story. 

Eventually, the story ended. Papyrus was already asleep, so Corbel wished Sans a good night's sleep before patting him on the shoulder and leaving the room; making sure the lights were dim but not out completely at Sans's request. 

Sans fell asleep into a dream of talking flowers and rabbits in waistcoats soon after. 

* * *

Corbel woke up at two o'clock in the morning again. 

"It's been decades, Corbel," the flaming skeleton grumbled to himself as he lay in bed with his face pressed into his pillow. "You need to kick this bloody habit of yours." 

With well-practised reluctance, Corbel swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a few minutes, thinking and waiting for his flames to brighten into their usual shade of orange. Pyrex wasn't here, so he felt considerably lonely tonight, and there was no way he was waking up those kids to talk to them about his own problems. He was supposed to be a symbol of safety and stability for them. 

Speaking of the children... he heard crying. 

Confusion turned to worry. Worry prompted haste, and with said haste, Corbel stood up, strode out of his bedroom and to the one just across the hall. 

He walked in to find an empty but hardly silent room. The pale yellow wallpaper was illuminated into a deep sunset orange by his flames, which also revealed a small, shivering mound of blankets beneath the bed that appeared to be the source of the sobs. 

"Sans? Papyrus?" Corbel ventured quietly as he approached the bed. The sniffling sobs abruptly ended with a gasp, but the shivers continued. A confused whine followed, but was quickly hushed up. With care, Corbel sat down on the floor next to the bed and placed a gentle hand on the mound. It flinched, but otherwise remained where it was. 

"Bad dream?" Corbel asked simply, rubbing his hand over the hiding children. Eventually, Sans sat up and allowed the covers to fall away from him. Corbel's tired, dim flames revealed tears trickling from the boy's eye sockets, and he held close to him a tiny bone dog that had been dressed up in an orange footie onesie. Ah... so Papyrus was a shapeshifter as well. 

"I-I'm sorry I w-woke you," Sans whimpered as Papyrus irritably wriggled in his hold, trying to get away. The toddler wasn't much bigger as a bone beast than he was when in his more humanoid form; and bore striking resemblance to Wingdings's alternative form save for softer, less worn features. 

"It's fine," Corbel dismissed gently. "I was already awake." 

"O-oh..." 

"Would you like to talk about it? The dream?" 

"N-no thank you..." 

"Okay. I'm going downstairs to get a drink; would you like anything?"

Papyrus was out of Sans's hold now, and had decided to scramble over to Corbel. The toddler-puppy-shapeshifter-skeleton tripped over his own feet before he even took the first step, and promptly fell face first into Corbel's lap. Chuckling, the older monster allowed him to nibble on his fingertips. 

"Can I have some water please?" Sans eventually asked once he'd wiped away the tears that soaked his face. 

"Sure thing, kid. Do you want to come downstairs with me?" 

"Yes please." 

Carefully, Corbel picked up both children and carried them downstairs to the kitchen, which also opened out into the living room. It was probably the largest room in the house; large, clean worktops and an expensive-looking cooking surface that worked with fire magic (no shortage of that). A tall, metallic silver fridge resided in the corner adjacent to the door, and extensive racks of cooking utensils lined the walls. 

The perks of owning a restaurant. 

"Would you like something to eat as well?" Corbel asked as he set both children down on the floor. They were painfully light, even if they were literally nothing but bones. 

"No thanks," Sans replied. Papyrus chewed on a chair leg. 

"Papyrus, please don't," Corbel requested, gently prising the skeleton puppy's jaws off of the furniture and getting an irritated growl for his trouble. "I take it you're hungry. That's fine." 

* * *

Corbel was content to sit on the couch; drinking tea whilst Sans sat on the floor, feeding celery sticks to Papyrus. The toddler had since shifted back into his more humanoid form. 

"I'm assuming you can transform as well; like Papyrus and Wingdings," the older monster eventually enquired as he finished his tea. Sans looked up at him and nodded. "It... doesn't hurt you, does it?" 

"No," Sans said, shaking his head. "Not unless I force it and I'm too tired. Or... or They make me..." 

He trailed off at that, and Corbel didn't press the matter. He'd find out who 'they' were, eventually. 

 _Then they'd pay..._  

Wingdings was still curled up on the other couch; medicine, sickness and exhaustion having rendered him completely lost to deep sleep. Claws once again tipped his distal phalanges, and his jaw had distended ever so slightly, making room for long, sharp fangs. It seemed transforming was a defence mechanism for him; something that worried Corbel. He was just a kid. He should've been able to sleep without the constant, subconscious worry about defending himself. That should've been reserved for war veterans like Corbel who couldn't seem to rewrite his mental schedule to redact the seemingly mandatory routine of waking up at stupid o'clock in the morning to search for nonexistent threats. 

The sound of small, squeaky yawns distracted him from his thoughts, and Corbel looked down to see Sans and Papyrus both beginning to doze off by his feet. He himself was beginning to feel the calm lull of sleep tugging at his consciousness. He didn't want to disturb them too much, so he carefully picked them up and carried them over to the couch where Wingdings slept, placing them both down next to the older skeleton and tucking them both in. As if on instinct, Wingdings curled up around them protectively, a low huff escaping him. Content that the three children were comfortable, Corbel walked to the other couch and flopped onto it. Minutes later, he too was asleep; his flames dimming down to nothing; making him look like a pile of burning red coals.


	8. Chapter 7 - Analysis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A doctor calls, and Corbel has more reasons to worry when they leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We introduce a new character, who doesn't belong to me. He belongs to Keetah Spacecat; the creator of the Baby Blasters AU, and I hope I've kept him in character. I also borrowed a lot of elements from Chapter 5 of their fic; Trust; because I was stuck for ideas on how to make this chapter decent.
> 
> Enjoy!

Wingdings was pacing again. For Corbel, pacing meant agitation, confined fear and highly-strung nerves. He'd learned over the past four days that the same seemed to apply to the boy. That wasn't good. 

 ~~"Wingdings,"~~ Corbel ventured, catching the boy's attention and halting his repetitive circuit of the kitchen. The young skeleton looked at him with nervous eyes as he rocked on the balls of his feet. "Is something wrong?" 

 ~~"The healer's coming,"~~ Wingdings said quietly, his hands shaking ever so slightly. ~~"Nervous."~~  

Of course. Doctor Sphyrae was coming to drop off Pyrex today, and hopefully check on the boys' wellbeing as well. Corbel had told them yesterday, and Wingdings had been nervier than usual ever since; pacing, jumping at small noises and crowding Sans and Papyrus. When Fetch and Doggo had come to visit for a few minutes earlier this morning, he'd run off to hide before they'd even finished knocking on the door, taking the younger skeletons with him. He didn't come out from under the guest room bed until the two dogs had left. 

 ~~"That's okay,"~~ Corbel said, turning away from the sandwiches he was making to offer Wingdings a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "But I assure you; Mister Sphyrae is not going to hurt you. He's helped me more times than I can count. And he might not even check on you; he's supposed to be coming here to drop off a friend of mine, and he might not have time to stay for long." 

Wingdings relaxed a little at that. Not much, but a little. 

 ~~"A friend?"~~ He questioned. ~~"Who?"~~

"Her name is Pyrex," Corbel explained. "She lives with me, and we've looked after each other for a very long time. But she hit her head a few days ago, before you came, so Mister Sphyrae had to look after her until she got better. You have nothing to fear from either of them." 

* * *

The sound of polite but firm knocking on the door caused the children to freeze. Even Papyrus had caught on that something was wrong; going so far as to pause in eating the carrot sticks that Corbel had been feeding him. 

 ~~"Hide!"~~ Wingdings hissed, quickly rounding up his younger companions and herding them behind the couch. Corbel had moved it ever so slightly so that they had enough room to take cover behind it if any of them felt threatened. It had helped. 

Corbel didn't stop them, but he made sure they were okay before going to answer the door. 

A stout, blue-skinned monster that looked like a salamander stood on Corbel's doorstep. Short, chubby and friendly-looking, a pair of thin-framed glasses was perched on his stubby snout and was held in place by feathery red crests on either side of his face. He was dressed in a gaudy pink sweater and a green polka-dot bow tie; both of which clashed quite severely, making Corbel's eyes sting; and tan pants. Nothing protected his feet from the elements. 

"Mister Sphyrae," Corbel greeted calmly; stepping aside to allow the aquatic monster in. No one followed behind. 

"Oh, Corbel, let's just be _'Frank'_ with each other," Sphyrae dismissed, a cheerful grin on his features. "No formalities, please, just call me Frank." 

Corbel had to laugh at the pun. Frank Sphyrae had one of those infectious personalities; you couldn't help but smile when he did. 

"Very well then, Frank," he chuckled as he closed the front door to keep in the warmth of the house. "If I may ask; where has Pyrex run off to?" 

"Oh, I think she found something shiny and ran off to try 'dragon' it back here," Frank joked, following the skeleton to the living room and sitting down on the couch farther from the wall. Corbel could hear Wingdings shuffling nervously behind the couch, and Papyrus grumbling at something. He couldn't have heard the puns from this distance, could he? Of course, he'd proven to be highly unappreciative of any jokes that Sans dared to utter in his presence, so it was plausible. "Her head's perfectly healed, so I didn't see the harm in it. Now, you said the other day that there was someone who needed my help? Three to be precise?" 

"That I did," Corbel confirmed. "Although... they're quite shy, so you might have to wait." 

"Oh, that's fine, _fine_ ," Frank dismissed, his gaze travelling to the couch where the boys were hiding. "Hmm..." 

"Hm?" Corbel echoed curiously. Frank was planning something; he had that glint in his eye that said he had come up with a clever way to pacify a particularly troublesome patient. 

"Tell me, Corbel," Frank began; a mischievous grin on his features. "Do these skeletons still have their funny bones intact?" 

A snort sounded from the couch, along with a high-pitched groan of frustration. 

"Ah, do they find me 'humerus'?" The doctor continued, and the snorts escalated into giggles. Corbel just stood by the coffee table, looking and feeling confused. "Well, 'tibia' honest; it's not often that I get to try my 'skelepuns' around an appreciative audience." 

Suddenly, Papyrus poked his head round the back of the couch, scowling. 

"NO!" He screeched in outrage, before being pulled back by the battered, skeletal hand of Wingdings. 

 ~~"Wait,"~~ the older skeleton whispered, his voice shaking. Corbel had to hold back a wince. 

"I must say, it's nice 'tibia-ppreciated' in this 'punderful' profession for once," Frank snorted, barely holding back his own chuckles. It amazed Corbel how he'd thought of luring the children out using _jokes_ of all things. 

That was apparently the last straw for Papyrus. Squealing in a peeved fashion, he stormed out of his hiding place with a nervous-looking Sans hot on his heels. Wingdings didn't follow them, so Corbel risked a look behind the couch. The boy was crouched on his haunches, gaze locked on the ground in front of him with a horrified expression on his face. He wasn't moving at all. 

 ~~"Wingdings, it's okay,"~~ Corbel murmured to him quietly, kneeling down by the opening behind the couch in the hopes of catching the boy's attention. Wingdings's eyes flickered to look at him, and he started shaking. 

 ~~"Scared,"~~ he whimpered, backing away slightly. 

 ~~"I know,~~ and that's perfectly alright. ~~You trust me, right?"~~  

Wingdings could only nod. 

"NO! BAD!" Papyrus shrieked, his voice practically ear-piercing as he clung onto the coffee table that separated him from the doctor. Frank just chuckled. 

"Your brother seemed to enjoy them," he countered, glancing towards Sans. The small skeleton had a smile on his face, and he was nodding in agreement. 

"HE BAD TOO!" Papyrus shouted, his face scrunched up in annoyance. "BAD! STAHP!" 

"Okay, okay," Frank chuckled, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. "So you're little Papyrus, eh?" 

In a sudden attack of shyness, Papyrus ducked behind the coffee table; out of sight of the doctor. "Nyeh..." He mumbled quietly. 

"Heheh, it's nice to meet you, little one," Frank greeted properly, before averting his gaze to Sans. The stocky little skeleton was quick to hide behind Corbel's leg. "And you're Sans, eh? The budding comedian." 

"H-hi..." Sans stuttered, his voice almost inaudible. 

"Hello, Sans," Frank returned, his smile less cheeky and more friendly. "I take it you're doing well?" 

"Y-yeah... I've been okay." 

Sans buried his face into Corbel's trouser leg. Whether it was fear or just because he was shy, Corbel couldn't quite tell, but it was enough to coax Wingdings out of hiding to see what was causing Sans distress. Slowly, he crept out from behind the couch, his eyes darting from Frank to Papyrus to Sans to Corbel and all the way back round again. Fearful of this stranger, but still trusting Corbel's judgment, he was quick to hide behind the older monster alongside Sans. None of the children appeared to have noticed the brief look of horror that flashed across Doctor Sphyrae's face at the sight of the older boy. 

Corbel did. A heavier weight of worry settled in his nonexistent gut. This was worse than he'd expected, wasn't it? 

"Hello, young man," Frank greeted quietly; his voice level and still friendly. Wingdings didn't look at him. "What might your name be?" 

A barely distinguishable mumble sounded from behind Corbel as Wingdings pressed his forehead against his back and his hands started shaking. Nothing was said as the boy fearfully clutched at Corbel's shoulders. 

"W-W-Wing... W-Wingd-d-d-dings," the boy whimpered, his words lost to a torrent of stuttering that always plagued him whenever he tried speaking in a language other than Wingdings. It had made conversations with the dogs whenever they came over difficult. Corbel had eventually resorted to translating because he hated to see the boy in such distress just because he'd been struggling to communicate. 

"Well, Wingdings, I'm here to make sure you and your brothers are alright. If you'll let me, that is." 

A small whine was the only sign that Wingdings had acknowledged Frank's words. In an effort to calm him down, Corbel turned to face the boy properly and coaxed him into a hug. The embrace was all too willingly reciprocated, and he wasn't surprised by the strong grip of the younger skeleton. Fear heightened a lot of things besides senses. 

 ~~"I trust you,"~~ Wingdings whispered unsteadily; repeating the words over and over in a terror-fuelled mantra. Corbel didn't do anything to stop him; knowing that it would likely send him further over the edge of panic. ~~"I trust you, I trust you..."~~  

His words dissolved into a tirade of weak sniffles and sobs, and Corbel could do little more than just stand there awkwardly whilst feeling the eyes of the younger children and his guest on his back. Fresh tears soaked the front of his dark green button-up shirt once more, but he didn't say anything. 

 ~~"I know, kid,"~~ Corbel consoled, rubbing Wingdings's back in the familiar circular motions that he knew would calm him down. ~~"It's okay."~~  

Frank was polite enough to wait for Corbel to calm Wingdings down and sit him on the sofa before proceeding to run a check-up on Sans and Papyrus. Keeping them entertained with slight of hand tricks in which he pulled lollipops out from behind their heads and made medical instruments appear out of nowhere with a slight flick of the wrist. The doctor put it all down to 'magic' as both wonderstruck kids asked him how it worked and if he could do it again, and was unsurprisingly patient with both kids. His talent in turning their fear into curiosity even managed to entice Wingdings out of his timid shell. Of course, the three were still unimaginably tense, especially when they were presented with an unfamiliar medical instrument. Thankfully, after allowing them to hold and examine the tools, they were relatively pacified. 

So after the two younger skeletons finished the examination with several stickers on their skulls (courtesy of Papyrus and his eagerness to stick them on something) and a lollipop each, Corbel felt his flames swell with pride. They'd done so well. 

Now it was Wingdings's turn. 

"Take your time, kid," Frank said gently, his tone betraying sympathy. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

With a timid nod, Wingdings rose to his feet and unsteadily made his way to the other couch to sit next to Frank. Corbel followed him and stood to the side, just for reassurance. 

The skeleton's mood changed the moment he sat down. His posture went ramrod straight, the fear in his eyes was replaced with an icy blankness that unsettled even Sphyrae. 

"Okay then," Frank began, his voice a little less confident than before. "Let's take a look at your chest first; get that out of the way. Do you mind taking off your sweater, Wingdings?" 

It was with swift, mechanical movements that Wingdings pulled the dark green sweater off over his head and set it down on the couch beside him. Even after half a week, Corbel still felt himself wince at the sight of the ugly gashes and hairline cracks that littered the child's ribs in a nightmarish carving that only depicted a lifetime of pain. Even Frank seemed reluctant to touch him. 

"Let me know if it hurts, alright?" The doctor requested gently as he reached out a gentle, thick-fingered hand to carefully examine the child's ribs. 

Child... 

This was a fucking _child_! 

Corbel felt his spine sparking, and when he looked up, thin grey tendrils of smoke were curling in the air above him. 

"I need to step out for a moment," Corbel said blankly before abruptly walking out of the room and into the kitchen. 

"C-C-Corbel!" 

The broken cry was what stopped him dead in his tracks.  

This was a child... 

Without a second thought, Corbel strode right back in to see Wingdings twisted around and looking only at him; tears streaming down his face, which was locked into an expression of pure terror. 

"Oh, ~~kid..."~~ Corbel breathed, moving forward and picking Wingdings up in a fierce hug. ~~"I'm sorry.~~ That was stupid. ~~I'm sorry."~~  

Wingdings clung onto him desperately and returned to the pitiful mantra of ~~"I trust you"~~ ; whimpering into Corbel's collarbone and trembling like a leaf. Frank, Sans and Papyrus all watched the display with pity; silent as anything. 

Of course, it wasn't long before Papyrus started grumbling to be held as well. With determined steps, he made his shaky way over to Corbel and started yelling at the flaming skeleton. 

"UP!" He demanded. Corbel knelt down to oblige, and ended up staying on the floor because he didn't want to risk dropping either kid. Then Sans ran over to join in, creating an even bigger group hug. Frank didn't object. 

Eventually, Corbel had to end the touching moment. Pulling away, he rested a gentle hand on the back of Wingdings's head and looked him in the eye. The tears had stopped, thankfully, and the lights of his eyes were a little brighter; signaling a better mood. 

"You want to get this over with, Wingdings?" He asked. "It's okay if you want to wait for Frank to come over another time. We can arrange a proper date, and we'll be a little more prepared for it." 

There was silence as Wingdings paused to think about his answer. Looking at his hands, he fiddled about with his phalanges for a while; deep in thought. 

 ~~"I want to do it now,"~~ he decided. ~~"… Get it over with."~~  

"That's fine. You're really brave for that, y'know? Most other kids your age would back out the first chance they got." 

 ~~"Oh..."~~  

"So I'm assuming you want to continue?" Frank enquired, catching everyone's attention. "Fine by me. But I am a little pressed for time, so if we could hurry along, then it would be appreciated." 

Wingdings nodded in affirmation and stood up from where he'd been sat on Corbel's lap. ~~"Please."~~  

"I'm not all too familiar with Wingdings, but my best guess is that you're agreeing with me, hmm? If that's the case, then would you kindly sit back down on the sofa so I can carry on with the check-up?" 

* * *

Wingdings was surprisingly placid throughout the examination as Frank inspected his hands, ribs and face. The doctor noted everything with a well-practiced, restrained air and made sure the young skeleton knew exactly what he was doing and what it was for, even though he didn't ask a single question. 

It wasn't long before the salamander monster was done. 

"That went well," Frank concluded, putting away all his tools in his bag. 

"Thank you," Corbel said as he helped Wingdings into his sweater. The boy had started shaking towards the end of the examination, but held his nerve surprisingly well. "We appreciate the help." 

"It was nothing; you know I live for this job," Frank dismissed; a fond smile on his face as his gaze crossed over the three boys who were now sat on the floor and trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle. Although Papyrus was more invested in putting every piece in his mouth at least once. "They're good children, Corbel. Take care of them." 

"I will." 

Nodding decisively, Frank allowed Corbel to escort him to the door, before stopping him at the last moment. A borderline scowl creased his usually smooth and friendly features, and Corbel braced himself for the worst. 

"Someone hurt those kids, Corbel," he stated gravely. "I'd call it domestic abuse, but some of those cuts were too... precise. Surgical, even. They've been experimented on; used like lab rats." 

Something... cold... settled into Corbel's soul; deeply contrasting with the faint pops that raced along his spine. "Are you serious?" 

Frank nodded, his eyes darkening. "This is not a joking matter, my friend. The holes in Wingdings's hands were no accident; someone _carved_ pieces of him out of his body for some sick, twisted reason. This is medical abuse." 

Corbel could say nothing. He was afraid of losing his temper. 

Frank continued, "If you hadn't taken them in when you did; Wingdings would be dust. I fear Sans would have followed soon after, and without them, Papyrus would have died as well." 

"No..." Corbel protested weakly. "I... I knew Wingdings was in a bad way, but... Sans and Papyrus?" 

"I'm afraid while Wingdings appears to have suffered the most, Sans has too, though thankfully, not as much. Sadly, all three of them will take a long, _long_ time to recover, and it won't be easy. The three of them are calcium deficient, among other things, so I'll have to pick up some medicine to help with that. And upon such short notice, I wasn't able to check everything I'd like to; their souls in particular. I'd like to arrange a proper appointment, if you wouldn't mind; I can bring the medicine and something to fill in the marks in their bones as well. I'd also advise scheduling some therapy sessions for them as well; if Wingdings's reaction was anything to go by, then they're all likely to be suffering mentally as well as physically." 

"I will... When can you see them again?" 

"I'm quite heavily booked right now; but I can visit again in two weeks." 

"That's fine; thank you. I'll see you then." 

"Good luck." 

"I think I'll need it. Thank you." 


	9. Chapter 8 - A Feathered Flame Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More help arrives in the form of a creature that sounds like a cat. Sass and sweetness are abound, Corbel introduces the boys to them and some memories are relived as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We meet a character who I've been alluding to since we met Corbel. I loved writing her, and I hope you like her as well.

_Tap_ _tap_ _tap!_  

Corbel looked up from the parsnips he was chopping up to lay eyes on the window. It was frosted over, causing for the outside to be perceived in a messy white blur, but he could see a bright orange shape perched on the window ledge and tapping the glass. 

Grinning, Corbel put down his knife and strode over to the window, flinging it open to allow the cat-sized flash of tiger orange to leap into his arms with a gleeful chirr. The flaming skeleton just laughed and held the creature to his chest; relishing the comforting feeling of soft, warm scales and silky feathers against his bones. He felt so much better already; about everything. 

"I missed you too, Pyrex," he said fondly, his voice muffled against the dragon's neck. 

Pyrex was a small Oriental Dragon with a large crest of crimson feathers streaked with canary yellow running down her back and ending in a flare of similar feathers on the tip of her tail. The soft plates of her belly flared were a lemon yellow in colour; like the membrane of her wings; and felt more like one unbroken sheet of leathery skin rather than several large scales. A pair of gleaming gold horns curved out from the crown of her thin, elegant head, although the left was somewhat warped out of shape. Such a deformity would have completely wiped out her chances as a status animal if she'd been bred before the war, but in all honesty; Corbel hadn't picked her because she looked flawless. 

"Kyeeeergh!" The dragon trilled, her voice high and melodious to Corbel's non-existent ears. Wide, buttercup gold eyes with cat-like eyes gazed at him cheerfully; matching the grin that materialised on her long, thin muzzle. 

"We've got company; I hope you don't mind," Corbel said as he carried his friend into the living room, where Sans and Papyrus were looking at a picture book he'd dug out of the back of his closet whilst Wingdings was on the couch; trying to keep an eye on them both, but inevitably drifting off into a light doze. However, at the sound of approaching footsteps, he blinked awake and focused in on the older monster. Upon seeing Pyrex curled up in Corbel's arms, he immediately looked wary. 

"Chiirrrgh?" Pyrex enquired, regarding each of the skeleton children with equal curiosity. Something flickered in her gleaming eyes when they crossed Wingdings. 

"Pyrex, this is Sans, Papyrus and Wingdings," Corbel introduced, gesturing to each boy in turn. "Boys, I'd like you to meet my friend Pyrex. She's the one Mr Sphyrae was looking after." 

"H... hello..." Sans murmured in greeting, putting down the book and setting it aside. He looked wary; blue flickering across his left eyelike a warning signal. 

"Churgh!" Was the bright; cheerful response as Pyrex eagerly darting out of Corbel's hold and trotting over to Sans and Papyrus. Both boys tensed at the sudden movement, and she halted just a foot away from them. 

"They're shy; I forgot to mention," Corbel admitted. Pyrex looked back at him with a solemn look that said 'like you, huh?' before returning her attention to the smaller skeletons with calculating eyes. She recognised the looks in the children's eyes. Haunted. Scared. Suspicious. Just like Corbel once was. Like he still is now, sometimes. 

She didn't have much experience with children. She'd never been interested in having any of her own. But she knew that they weren't supposed to be acting like _this_. Like the people she'd been taught from an early age to look after. 

Humming softly, she took a cautious step forward; gradually closing the gap between herself and the two skeletons. They both stared at her; Papyrus with wide-eyed curiosity; Sans with an assessing look as he tried to figure her out on every level from intent to strength. She remembered seeing that look in Corbel's eyes when they'd first met. 

* * *

 

 _"_ _Corbel_ _; quit being a wuss and get in there. You can't stay cooped up in your house_ _avoiding people for the rest of your life. You've got to start moving forward_ _, and_ _this sort of thing_ _is the first step; believe me. Not as great as finding your potential future mate, but it's something._ _"_  

 _"I..."_  

 _"Just get in there, soldier. Go on,_ _make friends with them_ _._ _"_  

 _"Fetch, I'm your superior officer, you can't just-."_  

 _"You resigned, remember? With you being a citizen now; I hold authority over you. Now go on; even Barter and Bite went to see them, and you_ know _what they're like now. And you say your middle name is 'Bold'._ _"_  

 _Pyrex looked up as she heard the door finally click open; revealing a tall skeleton covered in flames and a terrier-_ _mutt cross_ _wearing light leather_ _armour_ _. The latter looked annoyed, whilst the former was just a mess. Their clothes hadn't been washed in a while, and the listless look in their eyes posed as a thin veil over the high-strung, calculating fear beneath. She_ _recognised_ _them as Corbel Bold Scintillate; a war veteran she'd recently been assigned to spend some sessions with; along with some other therapy animals she worked with._  

 _It seemed now was a time for the late veterans to finally start seeking therapy._  

 _"I don't want to do this,"_ _Corbel grumbled under his breath._  

 _"Corbs, please," the dog pleaded tiredly. "You're my friend, and I hate seeing you_ suffer _like this. It's been thirty years; you've got to_ move on _. Just give it a shot. If you don't enjoy it after a few sessions, then you can stop coming. Guard's_ _honour_ _."_  

 _Corbel said nothing. With slow,_ _laboured_ _steps, he_ _walked into the room and cast a jaded glance over all the animals within. He'd been forced into coming here; Pyrex could tell. That was a common occurrence when it came to ex-soldiers. They holed themselves up in solitude until concerned friends talked them into getting some support._  

 _However, Corbel seemed... worse... More damaged, more resistant to help than the others. Pyrex's colleagues seemed to recognise this and... didn't know what to do. They hesitated, and the skeleton noticed. His eyes flickered a sickly mud_ _dy_ _green with distaste. He didn't see the point in asking for help from animals that didn't know what to do with him. Or at least that was the impression Pyrex got from him._  

 ** _"Morons,_** ** _"_** _she snipped quietly; standing up_ _on her_ _perch in the corner and fluttering down from it. The room was a simple affair; beige walls, beige carpet, beige couches and padded chairs_ _, beige curtains, just... a lot of beige. The only respite from all the_ beige _was the colourful toys on the floor; tug ropes, bouncy balls, plush toys, etc. All in all; an appreciated but not entirely effective attempt at making the place look appealing._  

 _At the sight of movement; the apathetic look in Corbel's eyes vanished, replaced with only suspicion. This dragon was bolder than the other animals; and he didn't like it._  

 _Pyrex was fine with that. She was used to it. Unperturbed by his icy demeanour, she padded right up to him and stared up at him expectantly._  

 _"You want something?"_ _the skeleton asked bluntly; eyes still suspicious._ _"I don’t have any dragon treats if that's what you're after."_  

 _This was likely to take a while, wasn't it?_  

* * *

 

This was likely to take a while, wasn’t it? 

Still, Pyrex hadn't gotten where she was now by being timid. That had been what separated her from the other therapy animals that Corbel had met that first time he'd been to a session. She hadn't been afraid to push the limits.

Leaning forward, she gave Papyrus a tentative sniff; hoping to gain some interest from the toddler first. 

It worked. 

"Bah?" Papyrus cooed, reaching out and roughly batting the dragon on the nose with a small, bony hand. Pyrex flinched at the unexpected contact, but otherwise kept still; wonderment lighting up her eyes as she took in the sensation of properly interacting with children for the first time. Then she started purring and rubbing her head into his outstretched palm, which in turn brought squeals of delight from the toddler. 

"Paweh!" 

Sans watched as his baby brother petted the dragon happily. A glance at Wingdings told him that his friend was still extremely wary of this newcomer, but another look at Corbel revealed that the older monster was quite pleased to see that his friend was getting along with Papyrus. 

Eventually, Pyrex pulled away from Papyrus's hand and turned her attention to Sans. She looked at him expectantly, and when he did nothing but stare at her blankly, she shifted closer and placed her head on his knee; chirring softly. 

 **"You okay, little one?"**  

With some hesitation, Sans raised a hand and started stroking the feathers on her head, marveling at how _soft_ they were. He'd never felt something so smooth on a living thing before that wasn't clothing. And Pyrex seemed to be enjoying it, too; judging from the smile that twitched onto her muzzle. 

"You're nice," Sans stated happily as he started fiddling with the feathers on Pyrex's ears. In response, the small dragon flared them out; showing off the bright yellow patterns that decorated the red plumes. 

Soon enough, though, Papyrus wanted the attention back on him. Grumbling, he reached over and quite rudely tugged on his new best friend's tail. Corbel was thankful that Pyrex was a patient, tolerant creature when he saw this happen. 

"PWAY!" Papyrus demanded loudly once Pyrex's eyes landed back on him. "PYWASH PWAY!" Pyrex understood and quickly darted off upstairs to find one of her toys. The dragon was something of a neat freak; constantly making sure all her possessions (aka her horde) were stashed away in an uncluttered fashion in her den beneath Corbel's bed. Over time, the skeleton/Incendiary hybrid had picked up the same habit; a welcome change, to be honest. 

Not even a minute later, Pyrex returned with a red-and-yellow tug rope – the kind enjoyed by dogs – clenched in her jaws. Once back by Papyrus's side, she gave an inviting, high-pitched chirp and wagged her tail. After a short moment of confusion, Papyrus suddenly transformed and grabbed the free end of the rope; growling as he fiercely as he could for a creatures his size and age. Pyrex didn't even so much as blink at the change in shape; instead easily holding her ground against the toddler; who was almost as big as her. 

It wasn't long before Papyrus grew tired and gave up; resorting to bothering Sans instead by crawling onto his lap and whining for attention. Pyrex dropped the tug rope and flexed her jaws to ease out any stiffness before finally laying eyes on Wingdings. 

Wingdings hid behind the couch cushions. 

 **"You weren't kidding when you said they were shy,"** Pyrex mused quietly as she cautiously padded towards Wingdings. The lights of his eyes were flicking just like Sans's had; but at a more frantic rate. **"Hey... I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, right?"**  

Further suspicion creased Wingdings's brow, but he didn't utter a single word. He just let out a small half-growl and that was it. 

Well... it was better than nothing, Pyrex supposed. 

Corbel stood up from where he was sat on the floor and walked over to Wingdings, kneeling down beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder. Then he started murmuring and... clicking?... at the boy. Wingdings returned the action; seemingly speaking in an odd language that Pyrex didn't understand at all. They appeared to be discussing something. 

Eventually, the conversation ended, and Wingdings returned his attention to Pyrex with more curiosity than suspicion this time. Smiling, the dragon gave him an encouraging chirp and stretched out her neck; inviting him to pet her. A trembling hand reached forward, and Pyrex felt a small stinging sensation in her soul at the sight of the battered appendage, but she didn't let it show. Instead she pressed into Wingdings's hollow palm; crooning softly.

Wingdings's eyes widened at the feeling of feathers  against his hand, and instinctively curled his fingers into them, fascinated with the texture between his phalanges. Pyrex seemed to be enjoying it as well, because she was letting out a rough purring noise, and her eyes were closed in contentment. 

"She likes it best if you massage the base of her feathers and horns, like this," Corbel suggested, raising a hand to demonstrate. With practiced ease, he rubbed his distal phalanges against the roots of Pyrex's feathers in circular motions. The purring grew fiercer, and Wingdings tried to mimic the motions. Corbel pulled away. 

 ~~"She's really soft,"~~  Wingdings murmured as he started tracing the ridges of Pyrex's left horn; the twisted one. 

"It is nice, isn't it?" Corbel mused. "She's nice to hug, too." 

Wingdings looked at him in surprise. ~~"Can I..?"~~  

Corbel didn't even have time to respond before Pyrex hopped up onto the couch and curled up against Wingdings's chest; still purring. 

"I think that's a yes," Corbel chuckled. "Go ahead, kid. I've got to go finish making lunch. What do you say about soup?" 

 ~~"Sounds good,"~~  Wingdings murmured; most of his attention preoccupied with wrapping his arms around Pyrex in a hug. Pyrex just hummed and wrapped her tail around his chest as far as it would go. She only managed to go all the way round his back before her tail was flicking futilely in an attempt to gain more ground. 

"Perfect. Why don't you get some more sleep; you seem tired. I'll wake you up when the food's ready." 

 ~~"Okay. Thank you."~~  

 ~~"Don't worry, kid."~~  

Yawning, Wingdings curled up with Pyrex in his arms. Corbel was happy to see Pyrex nuzzling the young skeleton's cheekbone and looking at him with a fondness she usually only reserved for Corbel. The older monster didn't hold any qualms against her for it though. These kids needed all the love and affection they could get, and he was more than willing to share that which he himself received on a regular basis. 

He didn't need it quite as much as he used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect more cute cuddles from Pyrex; she adores them, and the kids need them desperately.


	10. Chapter 9 - Offerance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corbel has to go back to work sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing another OC of mine. Hopefully I did alright in making him a decent character, however I'm not sure how prominent he'll be in the story.
> 
> This chapter... is a little lousy in my opinion, but I just wanted to get it over with. Hopefully the next chapter will be better.
> 
> Enjoy.

It had been a week and a half since Corbel had taken in the three shapeshifting skeleton children, and he had decided that he had to start working again. It wasn't just because he needed the money to now keep not only himself, but a trio of hungry kids afloat, too. 

Corbel owned a restaurant and bar; jokingly named The Firehouse at first, until the name stuck; that catered to many of Snowdin's residents. It was a nice place, if he did say so himself. Parents were comfortable with bringing their kids over, friends could just sit down and share a laugh over some drinks, and he was just... content... He found peace in darting back and forth between tables and the kitchen; wrapped up in the ordered chaos of his routine whilst Pyrex either tailed behind him or hung out among the guests to make sure they were happy. He'd take orders, cook and serve meals; the basic framework of his routine providing him with a semblance of stability that helped to keep him somewhat sane. 

Perhaps it would also get the children used to other people, because so far, the only strangers they'd met had been Fetch, Doggo and Doctor Sphyrae, and their reactions to their presences hadn't been very promising as to how well developed their social skills were. 

"Boys?" He began, catching their attention from their activities. Sans was looking at a picture book Papyrus and Wingdings was contentedly stroking Pyrex on the couch. They were happy. Healing. That was good. But at this point, it was hard to tell how long it would last. "I need to discuss something, if you don't mind." 

Wingdings tensed immediately. He'd been dreading this; the situations constantly playing in his mind. Corbel didn't want them anymore. He was going to throw them out, sent them back... 

"Kuurrgh..." 

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Pyrex's chirping. Looking down at her with fearful eyes, he tried desperately to halt the shaking of his hands. They were rattling loudly. The Scientists hated it when he did that. 

Huffing through her nostrils, Pyrex rested her chin on the boy's sternum, locking eyes with him. The conviction in her eyes acted as a mental crutch for Wingdings, and he pulled her closer to his chest to hide his face in her feathers and breathed, like Corbel had told him to. He liked Pyrex's scent; it was sweet and warm and helped ease the sharp ache that pervaded in the back of his mind and slow the fear that emanated fiercely from his soul. 

 **"You'll be okay,"** the small dragon reassured him. It was difficult to understand what she said most of the time; only being able to decipher a few words the moment she said them; but little by little, he was learning. It was like figuring out an alternate dialect of your own language, because when it boiled down to it, Pyrex spoke in a very similar fashion to himself, Sans and Papyrus when they were in their quadrupedal forms. 

"I have to start working again soon," Corbel began, his voice steady and studious. "I own a restaurant, which isn't far from here, but I'd rather not leave you here alone." 

Sans and Wingdings both looked up at him nervously. 

"Wh-what's a 'restaurant'?" Sans asked. He asked a lot of questions like this; always wondering how things worked. Corbel was more than happy to try explaining things to him. 

"A restaurant is a place where people go to eat," Corbel explained calmly. "Since I work there, I'm the one who makes food for them in return for money, which helps me buy food for and pay for this house. That's why it's important that I start working there again." 

The three boys were quiet when he finished; all looking at him with unreadable expressions. Wingdings had relaxed visibly, but was still holding onto Pyrex for mental support. He was safe. They were safe. Corbel was just telling them that they'd have to go to another place so that he could work. They weren't going back There. 

"I'll have to wake you three up early tomorrow morning so that I can go over there and open up," Corbel said. "But you can always go back to sleep when we're there; I have a small break room just off of the kitchen that you can stay in. And if you want, then you can go into the dining area and meet a few people. Just let me know where you are, first." 

Wingdings nodded in confirmation as he processed what had been said. ~~"That's okay."~~  

* * *

In a sense, The Firehouse lived up to its name by the pleasant warmth that pervaded every inch of the establishment and made it an awfully pleasant place to be in. The tables, chairs and countertop were fashioned from dark, polished mahogany, cheerful yellow light illuminated the dining area with its soothing hue, and the faint scent of eucalyptus filled the air. 

"Welcome to The Firehouse," Corbel announced as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. His arms were currently loaded with heavy bags of fresh cooking supplies, and he'd barely succeeded in unlocking the door without dropping everything, and it did not help that Sans was transformed and getting under his feet as he played some form of chase with Pyrex, who had decided to tangle herself up in Corbel's legs so as to keep away from him. "Pyrex, I can't walk if you're under my feet! Please stop that!" 

The dragon tittered mockingly, and climbed up onto his shoulders; her claws digging into his ribs painfully. Sans barked up at her in annoyance. 

 **"No fair!"** He protested loudly. 

Pyrex stuck her pointed orange tongue out at him.

"Pyrex," Corbel pleaded desparingly. "It's half past five in the morning, can you stop being so childish and give me a break?"

A loud trill where his ear should have been was the answer that rang through his skull. 

"Okay, okay," Corbel relented as he finally managed to step through the door and allow Wingdings and Papyrus in out of the harsh wind that was currently rushing through Snowdin. The toddler was wrapped up in blankets and grumbling in irritation at the low temperatures whilst Wingdings carried him and tried his best to protect him from the cold. 

"WARM!" Papyrus squealed gleefully when he noticed that the wind wasn't whistling through his eye sockets anymore. Suddenly in much better spirits, he pulled his hand out of the covering of blankets and started waving it about; frequently hitting Wingdings in the jaw. "WARM NICE! WINDING IT'S WARM!" 

 ~~"Very warm,"~~ Wingdings agreed quietly; releasing Papyrus from his warm, woolly confinement and putting him down on the floor. The tiny skeleton wobbled on his feet for a moment before grabbing Wingdings's hand; not noticing the flinch that shot through the older skeleton's hand when his fingers hooked around the edge of the gaping hole in his hand. 

"The kitchen is this way," Corbel told them as he hurriedly made his way to a door just behind the counter. It opened up into a kitchen just like the one in his house, only much larger and shinier; designed for cooking a lot more meals at once. "Come on, I'll make you some breakfast. Something nice; to apologise for waking you three up so early. You've not tried pancakes yet, have you?" 

"FOO!" Was Papyrus's overexcited reply. 

"Agreed," Corbel chuckled. 

* * *

Corbel was half an hour away from opening when he heard the front door opening and the faint _'clat, clat,_ _clat_ _!'_ of claws against wood flooring. He halted in his tracks; hand just letting go of a bottle of liqueur that he'd been checking over. A glance at one of the booths told him that Sans and Papyrus were occupied with some crayons and paper, but Wingdings – ever vigilant – had his gaze locked on the three dogs who had walked in; two Huskies and a pale-coated Akita with a ragged ear, dressed in light leather and chainmail armour. 

"Corbel," Fetch barked in greeting. 

"Fetch, how are you?" Corbel returned, making his way around the counter and towards the dogs; accepting the eldest one's offer of an embrace. 

"We're fine. What about you?" 

Corbel glanced at the boys. He knew what the older dog was asking. "We've been fine, thank you," he replied. "What are you doing here, exactly? I thought you had plans for today." 

At that, Fetch's eyes widened as if he'd just remembered something. He earned a small grumble of annoyance from the Akita with him. "Ah, yes, that. We need your house keys." 

Corbel immediately raised an eye ridge. That... was an odd request. 

"Um... why..?" he enquired. 

"We decided that your place could do with a little more kid-friendly stuff than whatever's left in your Lost and Found box," Fetch explained. "Because it seems you'll be looking after these kids for a while. We haven't found any reports of missing skeleton children, let alone shapeshifters." 

It took a moment for Corbel to take that statement in, but when he did, he nodded slowly. "Okay," he said. "Thank you." 

"Don't worry about it. It's great that you're looking after these kids, and trust me when I say it's rewarding. I mean, look; I've got Doggo here and I'm happy as Howie." 

A whine of annoyance was Doggo's response to that. **"Daaaaad!"**  

 **"Son, I mean it,"** Fetch insisted. 

 **"But it's embarrassing!"**  

Corbel – not understanding Canine – tuned out of the conversation fairly quickly. A glance at the Akita (named Spencer) told him that the other hound was rather disinterested in the scene and was chewing on a strip of rawhide to occupy himself, so he walked over to the boys to check on them. Sans and Papyrus had paused in their drawing to look at the bickering canines and their quiet companion. 

"Wh-what's going on?" Sans quietly. "Why are Mr Fetch and Doggo fighting?" 

"They're just being silly; they're not actually fighting," Corbel reassured him. "You see; Doggo is at that point in his life where he gets very, very easily embarrassed, and he tends to shout in order to express that. His father is just... trying to have a bit of fun by messing around with him. He's not meaning any harm by it. You understand?" 

Sans nodded. "Yeah." 

Corbel smiled. "That's good." 

"Ex... Excuse me." 

The skeletons' heads snapped up to lay eye sockets on the quiet dog; Spencer; stood a few feet away from the table. Sans shrank away from him; moving to shield Papyrus. Wingdings growled at the stranger; hostility radiating from his bones. Those of his jaw were slowly distending, cracking; teeth sharpening. 

 ~~ **"Back off."**~~  

Spencer's brow creased in surprise. Whether it was from the fact that the kid was speaking something close to Canine, or that he was shapeshifting, was hard to tell; but he was surprised all the same. 

"I'm not... going to cause any, um... t... trouble," Spencer reassured Wingdings in slightly disjointed English. **"Just ask some questions."**  

Wingdings's transformation slowed, but he still looked awfully distrusting of the armoured dog. 

"Wingdings," Corbel said; and the eyes were on him. "It's okay. He just wants to talk to you, but you don't have to say anything you don't want to. Just like when Mr Sphyrae came over, remember? I won't let anything happen." 

It took a while. Wingdings's eyes kept flickering from Corbel to Spencer to the boys, but he said nothing. He was calculating; analysing everything and figuring out whether or not he should trust Corbel's judgment. 

 ~~"I trust you,"~~ he murmured eventually. 

Corbel nodded. "I know." 

Wingdings took a deep breath and laid wary eyes on Spencer; gaze more curious than suspicious now. 

 ~~"What did you want to ask?"~~  

Corbel translated for the dog and Wingdings's benefit. He received a nod of thanks from both. 

"Fetch... says you have, um... **word** , word... diff... difficulty **s-** **spea**... speaking, um... **E-** English," Spencer said, his words halting and uncertain. 

"I-I... ~~Yes,"~~ Wingdings nodded. 

"So... so do I. It's very... **hhh, word... word, word, word**... frustrating." 

Again, Wingdings nodded in agreement. He was certainly more relaxed than before. 

"I want to help," Spencer offered firmly, his eyes glinting warmly. "I teach... I help people learn sign language. Speaking in... in, um..." He fiddled with his paws for a moment as he muttered pensively, trying to figure out the right words. "… in hands. Don't need a voice to talk." 

Wingdings perked up at that; interested. In Corbel's books, that was considered a good sign. A very good sign. 

Right up until it was replaced with suspicion once more. 

 ~~"Why help me?"~~ He questioned. There was a catch; there always was. No one just _offered_ him anything without expecting something in return. Except for Corbel. Corbel had proved himself to be trustworthy. 

"He wants to know why," Corbel translated. 

There was a pause as Spencer considered his answer. When he spoke, he made gestures with his hands. "I... As a pup... I couldn't speak... not very well... People... People, um... picked on me, be... because of it... I don't want others to... to f-feel like that, so... so I... word, **word**... decided to help by... teaching others sign language..." 

The skeleton was unconvinced. 

"Helping others..." Spencer continued. "...makes me feel better. That's why..." 

 ~~"...that's why you want to help,"~~ Wingdings finished. 

Spencer nodded; not giving any indication as to whether or not he actually understood. "I... come here every day... for lunch... I can teach you then?" 

With fresh eagerness, Wingdings nodded. He was smiling. The boy hardly ever smiled consciously, especially around strangers. 

"Okay." Spencer looked at Corbel questioningly. "When..?" 

"Whenever you _and_ Wingdings are ready for it," Corbel conceded, his eyes settling on the boy in question. "How does that sound?" 

Again, Wingdings nodded. ~~"Okay. Thank you."~~  

"Thank Spencer, kid. He's the one who's teaching you how to talk to people more comfortably. Honestly, he will do a much better job than I ever will." 

* * *

The morning passed by rather quickly. Corbel easily slipped back into his working mindset; cooking meals, serving them, washing the dirty dishes; the usual. The only changes to his routine were the quick glances into the break room that he carried out every chance he got; making sure the boys were okay; and the anticipation of what he'd come home to once he closed up. Sans and Papyrus spent most of their time putting together (or in the toddler's case; chewing on) the puzzles that Corbel had brought along whilst Wingdings watched and occasionally pitched in; picking out certain puzzle pieces that the boys were looking for. At some point, he'd started reading a small hardback book that he must have dug out of the bookshelf. The title was faded beyond recognition, so Corbel had no idea what he was reading. Still, he seemed to be enjoying it; that was enough. 

Eventually, midday rolled around, and Corbel allowed himself a brief pause in his routine to let Wingdings know that Spencer would be coming over soon, so if he wanted to, the dog guard could come in and start teaching him sign language. Wingdings nodded, but didn’t say anything. 

When Corbel noticed that Spencer had arrived, he was serving a greasy portion of fries to a customer, and the dog was quietly playing a game of solitaire in the corner of the room farthest from the bar. He had foregone his armour in preference for a simple grey hoodie and tracksuit. 

"Afternoon, Spencer," Corbel greeted as he passed the dog, catching his attention. 

"Hello, **Corbel**... Um, Corbel," Spencer returned, signing the words as he spoke. "Does, um... Wingdings... want to..?" 

"I don't think he's decided yet," Corbel replied as he poured a glass of water for the dog. "How long will you be here for?" 

"Got the... rest of the day off," Spencer said. "I can, um... wait." 

"Okay. I'll ask him if he wants to talk to you." 

"Alright. Um... take your, uh, time? Yes, take your time." 

With a brief nod, Corbel hurriedly made his way to the kitchen in order to both check on the boys and finish preparing another order. The three skeleton children were transformed, and the younger two were chasing Pyrex around the room and using the elder as a climbing frame. It concerned the older monster a little, but the rambunctious behaviour of Sans, Papyrus and Pyrex didn't seem to be causing Wingdings any discomfort, so he didn't try to stop it. 

 ~~"Wingdings,~~  Spencer is here," he told the eldest, catching his attention. He looked a little tired. ~~"Would you like to talk to him?"~~  Ouch, he really needed to practice speaking Wingdings, his pronunciation was absolutely deplorable. 

The boy just shook his head slowly. 

 ~~"I see. Later?"~~  

A tired shrug was his reply. 

 ~~"Okay."~~  

Content that everything was in order, Corbel returned to his routine. Back in the dining area, he rapidly signed to Spencer that Wingdings wasn't up to any sign language tuition. 

"That's fine," the dog said. "Some... other time?" 

"That would probably be best," Corbel agreed. "Thank you for your help. It's appreciated."

"N-no problem." 


End file.
